


Two of Us

by Creepy_Crawl3r



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bisexual Spencer Reid, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Leave a comment if you think there should be more, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Murder, Post prison (Spencer Reid), Post-Prison, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protect Spencer reid, Self-Harm, Short One Shot, Spencer Reid as Unsub, Spencer Reid is crazy but I still love him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-10-24 05:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creepy_Crawl3r/pseuds/Creepy_Crawl3r
Summary: Although Spencer has been out of prison for awhile his mind still hasn't recovered. He saw things, did things that have changed him forever. When the cause of all the pain returns will he lose himself or will he have the strength to retain who he is?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small post-prison one shot of Spencer. It is based off a few dreams I had after binge watching the show. I might add to it but I'm not entirely sure yet.

Reintegration was harder than he expected. When he walked through the elevator doors for the first time in months he felt out of place. He definitely felt like he didn't belong because he didn't view himself as inherently good anymore. What he told Cat, the "secret" he revealed, hadn't been a lie. The fact that he did it because he didn't want to push drugs was just a small piece of the puzzle. He wanted them to suffer just like him, just like his friend. 

Spencer tried very hard to contribute to the post investigations but his brain wasn't allowing him to. Everytime he got stressed, everytime he got overworked, his migraines kicked up. He would get flashes of what happened to him, of the things he had done. He wanted to be himself again but a part of him mourned for the person he used to be. Spencer was smart enough to know that the old him would never return. Not after what he had been through. 

It was after a few months had passed that Spencer received the first letter from Cat. He wasn't sure who she had worked with to get it to him but she did and he read it more than once. 

The new dark side of Spencer drew him to her. She talked about love, about similarities and about what he had done. She explained it all away and told him that he did it to survive and that it made him stronger than everyone else. 

Spencer rubbed at his right eye with the onset agony of a migraine. He crumpled up the letter that he had read for the millionth time and threw it in the wastebasket by his desk. 

"Hey Spence, we're going for some drinks. Do you want to join us? You know Rossi is buying." J.J said the last bit in a sing song voice as she planted on the corner of his desk. 

"It might help, you know. Don't confine yourself to the same four walls. You need to get out." She motioned around herself and Spencer faked a warm smile. 

"Alright, I'll come out for a few." 

Spencer surmised that if he lowered his inhibitions it might help a bit, it would be a temporary help but it would help nonetheless. 

They all sat around two different tables sharing their mutual life stories. Sharing drinks that their dear friend bought and forgetting the outside world. 

Except Spencer didn't forget. He remembered more than ever and the drinks he had actually made it worse. He remembered the blood on his hands in the motel, the blood on malcolm's face and that he felt no remorse. What an escalation. He went from absolute panic to not caring at all about another person he really did hurt. 

"Hey guys, I think I'm going to go."

He disregarded the concerned looks, the kind hand that rested on his arm when he got up from his seat. He patted J.J's hand and flashed a smile at her. "I'll be okay." 

He left and as he walked home his mind went back to the letter. It talked in detail about the things that Cat wanted to do with him. When he choked her during the interrogation he saw the smile on her face and it was a rush. He knew if he hadn't been stopped, he wouldn't have. 

The bar was not far from his apartment building so he decided to walk instead of drive. He wasn't that inebriated he had hopes though the fresh air would help clear his mind. 

That's when the time lapses began. 

Spencer was in his apartment and a woman was with him. He had no idea what her name was but she was beautiful. Long black hair, bright red lips, a tight black cocktail dress. 

One moment she was under him moaning, her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands in his messy hair. Spencer closed his eyes and when he opened them she was on top of him.

Her thin frame bounced on him, his hands held her soft breast and her long nails scratched his chest. His eyes, no, mind started to play tricks on him. For a moment, Spencer thought he saw Cat but he blinked and it was the woman again. 

The next morning when Spencer woke up it was to sheer terror. He had blood on his shirt, on his hands, bloody footprints on the floor. 

He walked barefoot through his apartment, following the footprints to his bathroom. That's when he saw her. 

The body was crumpled up in a heap at the bottom of his bathtub. Her face was beaten, her hair was sharply cut into a bob and the dress she wore was torn with bloody holes where she had been stabbed. 

Spencer swallowed past the panic because what the fuck had he done? What was he supposed to do? His team literally just cleared him for murder, pulled strings and went to lengths normal people never would have done. 

He carded his non-bloody hand through his hair and smashed the palm into his eye when it began to hurt. 

Spencer tracked back into the living room and threw himself on the couch. He reread the letter Cat sent him in his mind. 

"Find one just like me. I want you to do to her what you want, I want you to imagine she's me. Show me, Spencie. Show me how much you care." 

"No, no no!" Spencer cried out because this had not happened. It was some self induced delusion. Maybe he had broken from reality, it was too much for his traumatized mind to take and he is really holed up in some psych ward. He has been this whole time. 

"Think Spencer, think." 

He rocked back and forth with his hands in his hair. This couldn't happen. How could this happen? 

He needed to cut her up and put her in separate bags. There was no other way to dispose of her without him getting caught. Did he have the stomach to do that? Could Spencer cut up another human being? 

When he was done he had her body parts in 4 separate gym bags. He decided he would take a different bag with him on different days so as to not raise any suspicion. 

Spencer lined the bags with tarp and stapled it into place. The last thing he needed was blood to seep through. He wore black gloves so his finger prints wouldn't be left on anything, his hair was held up in a hair tie and a hat was on top of that. 

He breathed deeply as he burnt her finger tips, earlier he smashed her teeth so no one could retrieve dental records. Spencer cried silently as he gently placed her arms and hands in a gym bag. Another one for her legs and feet. Then two separate ones for the torso and head. 

When he got to his car he nonchalantly threw the bag into the trunk and collapsed into the driver's seat. He could do this. He had no choice but to do this. 

It was several days later he received another letter from Cat. 

"I hope you did what I asked. I wish it were me, I wish it were us. I wish I could see you again." 

The rest of the letter churned Spencer's stomach. He wanted nothing to do with this woman yet...yet he did that. 

The next few nights when he slept he had dreams of Cat. The type of dreams that Spencer normally never had even about women he did like. 

Short black hair was tangled around his fingers as he pulled Cat's head back and had a knife pressed against the front of her neck. He brushed his lips against her rapidly thudding pulse and the sound of her labored breathing aroused him. 

The dream would switch from his point of view to third person as he watched himself cut her chest and torso. He pushed her dress up to her waist and hastily undid his jeans, brandished his hard cock and Cat let out a whimper of excitement. 

Spencer saw himself force his body into hers as he plunged the knife into her side. She moaned in his ear as he thrusted into her, her legs now wrapped around his waist. He had no idea where they were, whether it was his apartment or somewhere else. All his mind focused on was what he did to her. 

All he focused on was the knife that continued to penetrate her as he brought himself closer to climax. The blood flowed freely over the hand that held the knife and pooled on the floor by his feet. 

That's when he would wake up. He would wake up covered in a cold sweat and tears that ran down his face. 

Spencer sat up in bed and his eyes drifted in the direction of the one gym bag that remained. It sat in the corner of his bedroom and in his mind he could see the lifeless eyes of the nameless woman.

He still didn't remember what happened, where he met her or what her name was. All he remembered was that they did have sex, that he did release inside her and that thought terrified him. He tried his best to ruin any evidence on her body that could be traced back to him but there was always room for human error. 

Spencer had a hard time hiding his anxiety and paranoia at work. His teammates were trained to notice lies, unusual body language and hidden agendas. He had never been the best at doing any of that and he felt it was only a matter of time before they found out his secret. 

Spencer continued to wake up with no memory of the night before. He would wake up with blood on his clothes, on his shoes. He began to find pictures tucked away in his dresser.

He kept burning the pictures but more kept appearing. He had no idea how many women he had hurt and/or killed but he knew something had to change. 

Spencer walked into the round table room and sat down with the rest of the team. 

Garcia walked up to the screen and Spencer immediately stopped breathing when the first victim appeared on the board.

"There has been a string of murders right here in our hometown. A jogger discovered a gym bag that contained two arms and two hands. Later on that week they found additional bags with other body parts. The M.E. ran tests and confirmed they're all from the same victim."

Rossi spoke up and Spencer tucked his hair behind his ear nonchalantly as he pretended to read the case file. 

"There have been 3 other bodies found and none of their identities have been confirmed yet. Whoever did it took forensic countermeasures and removed the fingerprints and smashed in their teeth." 

"Well, whomever the unsub is, he definitely has a type. Short black hair, slight frame and they're all in the same age bracket." Luke flipped through the file and stopped on one of the victims pictures. 

"Do you see this? It looks like the unsub cut the first victim's hair. Obviously they're all surrogates for the real target. Maybe it's a jilted lover. Ex girlfriend maybe?" 

Spencer coughed and tugged at the collar of his shirt. His heart began to race and sweat formed along his forehead. 

"Reid,you okay?" J.J. leaned into him because she could spot the obvious fear, the obvious panic that set in the further the discussion went on.

Prentiss made an "oh" face and she sat down beside Spencer. 

"I think I get it, Spence. They look like Catherine." Spencer's eyes widened and Prentiss grabbed his shoulder with a tight squeeze. "If you need to sit this case out Reid, I understand. The whole team will understand." 

He nodded quickly and closed the case file a little too hard as he scooted his chair back from the table. 

'I-I'm sorry, guys. I have to go." 

Spencer raced out of the building and to his car. Three bodies? That meant the gym bag in his room wasn't the woman from the other morning. It meant it was someone else and he had no recollection of even dismembering her. 

When he got home he ran to his bedroom and slowly unzipped the gym bag. 

It was a different woman. It was the fourth victim. Spencer threw up on his bedroom floor and began to sob. What was happening to him? What had he done?

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is most likely the last installment to this. I might add more if I get some comments regarding additional chapters. 
> 
> I did not have a beta reader for this so I apologize for any mistakes and grammatical errors.

The team didn't bother to form a command center since the case was in their own backyard. Spencer couldn't stomach talking to his team, couldn't look at the pictures of the women, couldn't read what he had....done to them. 

Spencer sat at his desk by himself where he twirled a pencil in his hand between his fingers. No one asked him in detail what had gotten under his skin, didn't question the cold sweat that formed whenever they asked him a question related to the case. They tried as little as possible to have Spencer involved but there were some things they needed his brain for. 

He leaned forward in his chair and pressed the heal of his palm into his eye. The migraines had become more frequent, flashbacks more detailed. He had begun to remember more of what he had done and it...didn't effect him more and more. 

Maybe this was who he really was? Mental illness ran in his family, his mother was out of her mind and after he struggled for an amount of time he shoved her back in the home. He tried to tell himself it was because of work, because he couldn't be home enough and he wasn't medically equipped but that wasn't the truth. 

After his mom had slapped him during an argument in the past he started the process of separation mentally. His psyche had already progressively gotten worse dealing with the situation and his time in prison solidified it. 

"Spence? You need some water?" Luke stopped by his desk with a hand on his shoulder. He spun around and grabbed the man's wrist a little too hard. He knew the look in his eyes was an unfamiliar one because the other man stepped back. 

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Spencer's voice was meek and strained. His PTSD still had the reigns and he honestly was sure how to get those back. It wasn't a top priority at the moment and the for the most part disregarded as an annoyance. 

"It's alright, man. Just...go home. We already said we understood, there isn't any need for you to push yourself." 

Spencer nodded his head and forced a depressed sigh and hunched his shoulders. 

"Thanks, Luke. Tell the team I left." 

He tried his best to walk calmly out of the building but once he reached the parking garage he broke into a sprint. The further he got away from this building the better. 

Once he made it a few blocks away his heart slowed to a normal pace and his thoughts became more coherent. He needed to dispose of that other bag before the smell was noticeable. 

Spencer had no memory of the older locations so there was no way for him to return to possibly get the other parts before they were found. 

The lake where he disposed of the most recent gym bag was a good spot but he couldn't dispose multiple times in the same area. The convenience did not outweigh the risk of discovery. 

Spencer pulled up to the curb in front of his apartment building and took a deep breath. He needed to figure this out quickly, he needed to think this through more efficiently. 

He lugged himself up the stairs because his muscles had weakened. Stress, maybe? Mental strain could effect you physically. When he reached his apartment he fumbled the keys out of his pocket to unlock the door but it was already unlocked. 

He immediately went on high alert and unholstered the gun on his hip. He pushed the door open gently with tip of his fingers and slowly stepped into the living room. 

"Spence?" It was J.J. and at first the tension released but it quickly returned. He left the pictures out on his kitchen counter and that's where the blonde was. 

He holstered his gun but kept his hand on the butt as he approached the kitchen. When he reached it his friend's back was turned to him and she quickly spun on her heels. 

"What is this, Spencer?" 

The picture she held up was of one of his victims. He didn't know who she was, didn't remember when he did it, why or where. 

Her pencil skirt was tore up, her blouse ripped open and black bra exposed. He had butchered her black hair to shoulder length and she had tear stained cheeks. 

There was shallow lacerations on her pale chest and stomach that were obvious signs of torture. 

Spencer looked away because he couldn't hold eye contact with J.J. or the picture.

"Spencer, I'm going to ask this one more time. What is this?" 

He yanked the picture out of her hand, crumpled it up and through it on the floor. 

"You discard them like that after you used them? After you tortured them and dismembered their bodies?" 

Spencer closed his eyes because he needed to gather his bearings. All he could think about was what he had begun to remember. The memories though were mixed with obvious delusions because some times the women looked like Cat. 

"She started writing me letters. I still have one or some. Let me, let me get them." J.J. drew her gun and Spencer couldn't stop the smirk that cracked his lips. 

"You obviously aren't my type." That visibly unnerved his friend but she let him walk away to retrieve the letters. 

J.J followed him to the desk where grabbed them and handed them to her. 

The vein in her neck strained as she read the letters he had received from Cat. 

"What, why did she send these? Why did you act on it? Spence, you are better than this. You aren't who she says you are." 

Spencer shrugged. 

"Prison proved you wrong, what's in my room has proved you wrong. I don't remember most of it, I don't even know their names or where I met them." 

His friend withdrew her handcuffs and he knew what had to come next. He stuck out his wrists and he click of the handcuffs made him flinch. It was because of him he was going back. He just got out and now he's going right back. 

The conversation didn't continue. She obviously didn't have the emotional strength or stability to question him or even talk about it. The ride to head quarters was quiet and the truck was stuffy and claustrophobic. 

When they arrived she placed her jacket over his hands to hide the cuffs. They walked through the glass doors and his entire team froze in their spots. 

"What? Oh boy wonder what's wrong?!" Garcia rushed over to him but he didn't respond or reciprocate the affection. His attachment to reality had already begun to separate and he was disassociating. 

J.J. handed Garcia the pictures and she dropped them when she saw what it was and stepped back from him. Tears formed in her eyes and anger flooded her face. She stormed off as Prentiss picked up the pictures. 

"Reid...were we wrong about mexico? Did you?" 

Spencer looked at her blankly, his friend of over 10 years was defeated and she handed the picture back to J.J.

"I don't remember then, just like I don't remember now."

That was a lie, though. He remembered Mexico almost crystal clear now, the memories of what he had done to those women were gradually emerging. He would maintain his innocence as long as possible but he knew this time there was no way out. 

Maybe he could plead insanity? 


	3. Chapter 3

The loss of his freedom didn't scare Spencer anymore. He didn't fear the walls and the bars that would more than likely be a constant companion. He gave up the right to care the moment he chose, whether it was consciously or not, to kill those women. To give into that side of himself was a decision he could never take back. At the very least he could attempt to plead insanity. It wasn't too far fetched of an idea if it was taken into account what he had been through in the last year. 

Spencer leaned back against the cement wall in the holding cell. His eyes drifted shut because he felt peaceful for the first time in awhile. He couldn't hurt anyone, he couldn't run off and kill someone in a blacked out state. Here he was trapped, for better or worse. 

There was a rap of knuckles on the bars and it startled him awake. 

"How are you asleep like nothing is wrong? Like you didn't rape and butcher 4 women? What happened to you in prison that made you....like this?"

It was Jennifer. He had given her the letters, she knew for the most part what he did in prison but not what had happened to him. 

She, nor anyone, new about the times he was gagged, held down and beaten. The amount of fear and desperation it took in order to stab himself in order to have some type of protection. Spencer's mind broke in prison. He became a different person, some might say a stronger person. It depended on what perspective you took. 

"Why didn't you tell me something was wrong, Spence?" 

He scratched the back of his head and let out a deep sigh. 

He had no answers that would make any sense to her. 

"You know, you're the only one in my entire life to ever call me, Spence? I never let anyone else call me a nickname before but it just seemed so right with you."

Jennifer gripped the bars and pressed herself into them. She was the desperate and scared one now. His friend finally saw the new man in front of her and it was terrifying.

"I want to help you, I so badly want to believe that it wasn't you or you had some psychotic break. Help me, help you Spencer." 

He stood up and Jennifer stepped back when he approached the bars where she stood. Spencer raked her body with his eyes and she shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"You want to help me, yet you won't even stand near me with steel bars as a barrier. You want to believe it wasn't me but it's obvious how little you trust me, how little you take my words for truth."

Spencer leaned in closer to the bars, reached out and grabbed Jennifer's arm. 

"It was me...but I can't tell you why it happened. I can't even tell you in detail what I did. Maybe you should have a sit down with me and do a little cognitive interview."

Jennifer visibly swallowed, her eyes welled up with tears that threatened to break free. 

"You're scared, I get it." 

Spencer let go of her arm and she stumbled backwards a few inches.

He walked back over to the flimsy bed provided to him and laid down. 

"I need to sleep, Jennifer. My interrogations will be starting soon." 

\--------------------------------------

"How many times do I have to say I don't remember? I don't know their names, I don't know where I met them. I don't even know where I killed them."

Rossi pinched the bridge of his nose and began to fidget with the ring on his finger. The older man leaned back in the metal chair into a defeated slouch. 

"Reid, we're going to do a cognitive interview. You know what it means and you know what you have to do. Close your eyes and try to remember small details. Smells, touches, taste. Maybe the sound of someone's voice?" 

Spencer closed his eyes and let out a slow, deep breath. 

"It's cold outside. I hear traffic but it's...it's in the distance." 

"Is it during the day, at night? Do you see or hear anything that tells you where you are?" 

Spencer looked down and there was a hand in his. Smaller, soft skin and painted red nails. 

"Her fingernails are painted red. She's wearing an engagement band on her ring finger." 

Rossi sat up straight and leaned forward.

"Where are you, Spencer?" 

His eyes followed the line of her dress up to her face and she smiled trustingly at him. It was genuine but she was definitely intoxicated. 

They were walking on a path, a dirt path and trees surrounded them. 

"I think we're in a park. There are trees, we're walking on leaves that are crunching under her high heels."

His mind flashed to the woman pinned against a tree. She hit at his chest, beat at him mercilessly but he pulled out a rope that he used to tie her. He brushed her hair away from her neck and brandished a knife that he pressed into the soft flesh. 

When she began to cry it enraged him. That wasn't how she was supposed to react. She wasn't supposed to beg him to stop, she wasn't supposed to be scared. 

"No, no, no!" Spencer began to hit himself in the temples and Rossi was immediately by his side restraining him. 

"That isn't right!" 

The man wrapped his arms around Spencer as he broke down into hysterics and continued to mutter to himself nonsensically. 

"I think it's time for a break and you need some rest."

When Spencer woke up he was back in the holding cell and he still had restraints on. Most likely for his protection but they were tight enough they dug into his skin. 

He moved his hands a bit for relief but it dug the metal in even harder. 

Spencer closed his eyes and he saw the same woman. She was so beautiful. He did remember her, he was sure she was the second victim. 

The first one he had met after he had already had a few drinks with the team. He couldn't remember where he met the other woman but he remembered what he did for the most part. 

The sound of her pleas, the feeling of her tears when he wiped them away with the back of his hand. He remembered he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and caressed the side of her face before he plunged the knife into her side. 

The look of shock even though she knew her death was inevitable. She knew one way or another it would happen yet she still seemed surprised he stabbed her. 

Spencer pushed her dress up to her waist and took advantage of her. When that happened, that was when reality became a blurred line. It was no longer that stranger, it was Catherine. It was the woman who haunted his dreams and haunted every moment of his waking life. 

He gasped for air as he shot up in the bed. A cold sweat covered his entire body like a slimy film. Even though he was conscious and aware he still felt the blood, the rivers of blood he had created. 

Spencer looked around him but no one was there. No one saw the crazed look in his eyes, the tears that poured down his face despite how much he tried to stop. 

He couldn't escape what he had done. Eventually it would all come back to him and the day it did, would be the day Spencer Reid will be gone forever. 


End file.
